


You Need Glasses, My Love

by CaptainTarthister



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Engaged Couple, F/M, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week, Sex, Sexy Librarian, reading is sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 07:31:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4951843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne is resistant to Jaime's answer to her headaches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Need Glasses, My Love

_A History of Valyrian Metallurgy,_ the book Jaime Lannister had been reading for two nights, was a page-turner. He was a tenured professor at the Medieval Studies Department of University of King’s Landing, his area of study focused on medieval weaponry and metallurgy of Westeros. It was a small field with only a handful of experts and he was considered the best of them. Rumor had it that the university had to lure him away from his position as Head Curator at the Westeros Museum of History and Art with a very generous, unprecedented package. A wild rumor, as far as he as concerned. It would be close to ten years since he started teaching but that bloody rumor just refused to die. 

One person who didn’t care about it was his fiancée, Brienne Tarth. She was director of the university library, and so concerned herself more with new book acquisitions rather than which professor had the most money. The book he was reading now had been requested by him. It was still waiting to be classified and assigned a number. Being director, Brienne brought it home for his to read first so he could decide whether to buy his own copy or not later.

Jaime pushed his glasses up his nose and turned another page. As his bright green eyes moved down the page, a familiar shape and form moved at the corner of vision line. He turned his head a little and was treated to a sight that always got him warm, his senses revved up and ready to go.

Brienne had just left the bathroom, wrapped only in a dark red towel that showed a lot of her freckled broad shoulders and chest, and more, a lot more freckles splashed down her thick, muscular thighs and long, long toned legs. Her body shape wasn’t feminine but every inch of her demanded a response from Jaime as a man. The man in him wanted to lick every freckle on her pale skin—as if he’d never done it before.

He rolled his eyes as she entered their closet, still in the towel, and got dressed for bed. They had been living together for close to a year, and had been together about a year before that. As he’d told her over and over, he had seen her naked, tasted every wonderful inch of her glorious body. There was no point of hiding, no sense in her remaining modest. When he teased her about it, Brienne’s skin exploded in a rich, tomato shade that quickly spread from her hairline to her chest. He knew she hated how she blushed easily so all the more he teased her.

Right now he wasn’t in the mood to tease. He just wanted to watch.

Brienne kept her back to him as she slipped on a black tank top. She pulled the towel down to her waist so it hung on her wide hips. Jaime licked his lips as she bent to step into her gray drawstring shorts next. Once this was on, she turned and removed the towel.  
Her short, straw-blond hair was a messy halo. The shower had given her gorgeous, round, very blue eyes a drowsy look, as well as a pink flush on her cheeks. If not for her clothes, Jaime would think she just came from fucking. From being fucked by him, he thought, tilting his head at her when she caught him staring. 

Frowning, she asked, “What?”

“Just liking the view,” he told her. He smiled, dimples deepening. Its warmth leaped to his eyes. “Come here, now,” he demanded softly, patting the space on the bed next to him.

“I intend to finish my novel tonight, Jaime,” Brienne said as she went to him. Jaime pulled up the blanket so she could crawl under them. Her legs under, she reached for the book at her bedside. It was titled _Honor In The Sword._

“I also intend to finish my book tonight,” he said, getting back to his reading. He squeezed her thigh. “Don’t distract me.”  
Brienne smiled to herself as she opened her book. Jaime didn’t have to worry about being distracted—she already was enough for them both. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t be, she thought, when there was a man such as Jaime Lannister in bed? His hair had grown long, a thick, golden blond that was beginning to brush his broad shoulders. His emerald eyes did not seem to cease flashing mischievously and it was matched with a smirk that told he was up to something bad or naughty. For fall, he was beginning to grow his beard again. He kept it trimmed and neat, following the hard, square line of his jaw. 

His hair was rumpled, there were shadows under his eyes from overseeing preparations for a conference his department had put him in charge of. The t-shirt he wore was a gray, thin thing that looked to have been hers, once, and pilfered by him since. There was a tiny hole on the seam of the right shoulder. Yet Brienne, who had a firm mattress under her, felt her legs weaken at the sight of him. And he had his black-framed reading glasses on. And he was reading. Seven Hells, a man who looked that delicious when reading should come with a public warning. 

A few minutes into her reading, Brienne started to feel a familiar aching behind her eyes. She sat up straight, leaning against the pillows Jaime had thoughtfully arranged and stacked for her while she was in the shower. She blinked at the words before her, trying to clear her vision. When that didn’t work, she reclined, resting her spine deeper against the pillows. She grunted in frustration.

Jaime, turning a page, murmured, “Babe, if you’re going to squirm like that over a book, I can think of a much better way to get you to squirm like that.” 

“Sorry,” she muttered, tilting the book and her head.

Glancing at her, Jaime held out his arm. “Lean. Come on.”

She settled in the space between his arm and side, moving gingerly at first because she was heavier. He grumbled something about being strong enough and pulled her a bit too roughly to him. He locked his arm around her shoulders.

Getting back to his reading, he asked, “Better?”

Her heard on his chest, she stared at the words on the page. “Too soon to tell.”

A minute later, she rubbed the bridge between her eyes.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“I’ve been getting headaches lately,” she told him, opening her eyes. 

Jaime put his book away and looked at her. “Are you—“

“No, I’m not,” she said quickly. When he raised an eyebrow at her, her face turned hot. “I had my period two weeks ago. Don’t you remember? We didn’t fuck for four days because. . .it was heavier than, you know, usual.”

Jaime nodded, remembering. Brienne had cramps too. Much as he liked it to be his hand warming her, the heating pad was a lot more capable of comforting her. He had to settle for little kisses along her nape and shoulder as she groaned about how she hated being a woman sometimes.

“What’s gotten you stressed? The wedding? All you have do is tell me how to help.”

“No, it’s not that. That’s what we hired Margaery Tyrell for. But, I’ll say it again, Jaime, it would be so much better if we just ran off.”  
“I agree. But your father threatened to come after me with a shotgun and hide my body where no one else will find it. You see why we have to go through a blasted wedding ceremony,” Jaime winked at her. She glowered at him. Both of them knew that he could have easily taken her for a quickie wedding at Braavo. He was the one who wanted to say their vows in front of family and friends, in formal wear that she could only imagine as heinous. She _abhorred_ dresses. 

“Alright. So it’s not the wedding, I haven’t knocked you up—yet. You want me to get you Tylenol?”

“No. Thank you. I’d sleep this off but I’m not yet sleepy.”

He grinned. “I can help with that.”

Brienne’s eyelashes fluttered as she blushed again. “Again, Jaime?” she whispered. 

He played with the strap of her tank then tugged it down her shoulder. “We do have to practice for the honeymoon. Didn’t I promise you it’s going to be an all-nighter?”

“I know. But you’re the one who needs a nap after fucking.”

“Do you know how it is to fuck you? I can’t believe my ears remain undamaged from your screaming. Seven Hells, Brienne, your cunt drains me. ” He smiled at her as her face flamed a deeper shade of red. He tapped his finger on the tip of her crooked nose. “I don’t mind. _I love it.”_

“I’m not distracting you, by the way.” Brienne picked up the book he had left in a tent on his lap and handed it back to him. “Go finish. I’ll try to finish mine.”

“Hold on. Let’s try something.”

She frowned. “Gods, Jaime, you really want to go again? We’ve already done it. . _.three times._ Today!”

“What’s wrong with two more?” He pointed out. “No, I’m not saying we fuck now. Listen, don’t get mad with what I think you can do, alright? Hear me out. I’m just trying to help.” 

He plucked off his glasses and held them out to her. 

“ _Jaime!_ I’m not old!”

“Ouch, and I am? I’m only eight years older than you. Come on. Just try.”

“Oh Gods,” Brienne groaned, taking them from him. She put them, perching them on her nose. Then she picked up her book. She blinked. For the first time, the words did not seem to shift or move in waves on the page. And the throbbing in her head had significantly lessened. 

“Well?” Jaime asked.

She peered at him through the lenses. “It looks like I _am_ old.”

“Nah, that’s the least of your worries.” He took their books and put them on his nightstand. His arms went around her waist. 

“What do I have to worry about?” Brienne asked. She didn’t notice how his eyes had heated as they regarded her with his glasses, her tank top with the strap down one shoulder. 

Jaime pulled her to his chest until Brienne was flush against him. Then he surprised her by licking the long line of her throat, the curve of her chin, before tracing it around her too-thick, too-full lips. He made a soft growl of approval at her startled look and the molten light in her sapphire eyes.

“Actually, it’s not you. It’s me, I just realized,” he said, quickly lowering his hands to the edge of her tank and urging it off her. Habit had Brienne’s arms raising. She gasped when she realized what she’d just complied to, her mouth falling open. It was too late. 

“Jaime!” she protested. She yanked at the sheet pinned under him to cover her small breasts. She was still wearing his glasses.

“I’ve always thought you’re a sexy librarian,” he said, pulling off his shirt. He kicked off his shorts before tossing her on her back down the bed. He smiled at her owlish gaze behind the lens. “Now, you are. Gods, I dreamed of you like this. How am I ever going to resist you now? ”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” but the vehemence in her denial softened when he reached for her left hand. Her heart raced as she watched him kiss every finger, pressing his lips the longest on the one that held the sapphire ring he had put there six months ago. 

“Never with you, Brienne,” he said, still kissing her hand. “How do you feel?”

“Uh, better?” Yep, her headache had all but disappeared. She gave him a small, shy smile. “I’m better,” she whispered. 

“Good. That’s good to hear.” His lips started tracking the long length of her arm, licking a freckle every now and then. There was no stopping the breathy moan from her lips.

“Jaime,” she whispered. He was nibbling on her shoulder now. His other hand was on her stomach and slowly making its way to her breast. He playfully pinched her nipple before soothing it with his tongue. Then his hands traveled further down her body. Her hips rose when he began pulling off her shorts.

“Jaime?” He had robbed her of her breath. 

“Hmm?”

“Would you— _oh_ —like to practice? For the— _oh_ — _oh, Gods_ —honey— _Jaime_ —moon?” 

“Sure,” he pulled away long enough to smile at her. “We need to find a way to make you scream my name the whole night. None of your usual little moans. And you’re keeping those glasses on so you can see clearly what I'll do to you. We’re going to need _a lot_ of undressed rehearsals.” 

It wasn’t Brienne’s cries of pleasure that filled the room. Not for a while. It was laughter, his and hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Nerd that I am, I find it a lot sexier to read in bed with Jaime Lannister.


End file.
